


Starting out on a Journey

by Misanagi



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, Fantasy, Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misanagi/pseuds/Misanagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A journey might hold not only the answers to Quatre's past but also to his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darthanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darthanne/gifts).



> Fusion with the animated movie Anastasia.
> 
> Dedication: For Anne, who wanted this fusion and has always been wonderful to me. Merry Christmas!
> 
> Thanks a lot to Cait, Lil, Ruth and Windsor for the beta. *hugs you all lots*

Not so long ago there was a young prince who lived in a palace. He was the youngest of a large family and the only son of Czar Winner. His mother was my beloved sister, who fell in love with the Czar on one of her journeys and decided to marry him and remain in the cold land of Russia. As the daughter of a Sultan, she was deemed worthy enough to marry the Czar. She gave him eleven daughters before finally giving him a son. She died in childbirth. The first time I traveled to Russia was for her funeral and that's when I met Raberba.

Even though he was only a baby he looked exactly like his mother, with the unusual pale features, golden hair and blue eyes. Over the years, I came back to visit Raberba as often as I could and watched him grow into a bright child. When my father died, my older brother became Sultan and allowed me to go to Europe on diplomatic missions for our Kingdom. Paris was the city I spent most of my time in but still my traveling to Russia became more frequent. I spent my time with Raberba telling him stories of the desert and showing him how our people lived and fought. Every time I had to leave, Raberba would ask me how long it would take for me to return, so on my last visit to St. Petersburg, I brought him a present.

"Uncle Rashid, thank you!" He was looking at the sand clock turning it over and watching the sand fall.

"That's not all," I said, taking something out of my pocket. It was a silver chain with a pendant engraved with Arabian symbols. I took the clock from his hand and inserted the pendant in a small slot at the base. It opened up to show a modern clock, the handles moving slowly. "You need to wind it up here." I moved his hand to the small mechanism and showed him how. Then I closed the watch and put the chain around his neck. "It'll be our little secret."

He smiled and nodded. I took the pendant and showed him the small inscription on the bottom, _Paris_. His smile brightened. "Are you taking me with you, uncle Rashid?"

But before I could answer, the doors of the great hall opened, and an old man walked in. His name was Tsubarov. He had held a high position in the military until the Czar expelled him for putting the people in danger.

"I curse you, Czar Winner, you and your family," Tsubarov announced. "You will all die in a fortnight. That will be my revenge." Then he vanished, in the middle of the great hall and no one could stop him.

His dark omens would tragically become true.

Tsubarov had traded his soul for the power to kill the Winner family. A fortnight later the people revolted with the support of the army forces, still loyal to Tsubarov, and broke into the castle, killing everyone in their path.

I was holding Raberba's hand as we ran when he suddenly stopped and headed back to his room. "My clock, I forgot it!" he said. I ran after him but by the time he had found the clock there were armed soldiers at the door, effectively blocking our path.

"Over here!" said a young voice. It was a brown-haired servant boy, about Raberba's age. He was holding Raberba's hand and pulling him to the other side of the room. He opened a secret panel in the wall and pushed Raberba through it. The clock fell on the floor.

"Hurry!" the servant signaled to me.

The last thing I saw before I closed the panel was the boy being hit by a soldier.

The secret passage led us outside. We barely crossed the palace gates when Raberba was pulled away from me. I turned around and saw Tsubarov, holding a knife above his head, ready to strike Raberba. I threw myself at him and used my own dagger to stab him in the heart. I wasted no time, took Raberba by the hand and ran.

The streets were in chaos but we managed to get to the train station where I was helped up a moving wagon by the people in it. I pulled Raberba up but his hand slipped away from mine and he fell down on the snow.

That was the last time I saw him.


	2. Chapter One

_Ten years later…_

Duo ran through the outside gates of the old farm, heading for the kitchen door. He was late. He hadn't meant to take so long going to town but the snow was deep and walking had been very difficult. The old lady would be mad, that was for sure.

He threw the door open and stepped into the kitchen. Quatre was already there, hands in his pockets, standing in front of the old lady, who was yelling at him. "There you are!" She turned to Duo. "You are late! Lunch will be late!"

The pot was steaming over the stove, meaning that Quatre had already cooked lunch and the old lady was waiting for the bread to start eating. She couldn't have stew without bread.

"I'm sorry." Duo put the bread on the table and went to stand next to Quatre. "The snow—"

The old lady banged the cane on the floor. "I don't want excuses. After all I've done. I've clothed you two and fed you, put a roof over your heads…"

Duo looked at Quatre from the corner of his eye and watched him roll his eyes. It was a speech they knew well. True, the old lady had given them all those things but it hardly was for free. He and Quatre had to work for her, practically being her servants. When Duo's parents died the old lady had agreed to take him in too. Quatre had already been living with her for two years and Duo decided that he rather stay as a servant with Quatre than go to an orphanage, alone.

Duo and Quatre had been friends since the day they met.

The old lady had found Quatre walking by her house, shivering and on the verge of freezing to death. He didn't remember who he was, what had happened to his family or how he had ended up there. Since the old lady needed someone to help her take care of her home, she took him in. Duo lived in the house next to her and since the moment he saw the other boy cleaning the stables, he knew he wanted to be friends.

Quatre didn't have a name back then. The old lady called him boy, but Duo thought that everyone deserved a name so together they decided on one. The old lady had laughed and still called Quatre "boy" most of the time, but they didn't care.

"… you need to learn your place, Duo," the old lady continued. "You don't deserve lunch, neither of you. And, Duo, a couple of nights sleeping in the barn shall teach you to be on time."

"You can't!" Quatre said. "It's been so cold lately. He'll get sick!"

"Silence!" She banged her cane of the floor again. "You can stay with him too," she said. "Don't you call yourselves brothers? Then you might as well share the punishment." She took the bread from the table. "I've got you both jobs at the fish factory. You are to start today. I suggest you keep this one. You aren't children anymore and if you don't pay the rent, I'm afraid I won't be able to let you keep living under my roof." She swung her cane, hitting Quatre on the arm. "Out! Or you'll be late."

Without a word, Quatre and Duo walked out into the cold. "Are you okay?" Duo asked, once they were outside. The old lady liked to hit them with that vicious cane. Once, Duo had stolen it while she slept and burned it. Two days later, the lady got another and punished both of them, even though Quatre had nothing to do with it. She was mean like that. She always punished the both of them because she knew how much they cared for each other. "I'm sorry."

Quatre waved a hand dismissively and smiled at him. "Thick coat," he said, rubbing his arm. "I barely felt it."

Duo kicked the snow angrily. "This is stupid!" he said. "I'm not going to work fifteen hours in a stinky fish factory just so she can keep all the money and starve us and hit us whenever she likes."

Rubbing his hands together to heat them up, Quatre sighed. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"Let's go away!" Duo stopped in front of an intersection. A tall pole signaled the two roads, one leading to town and the other to the city.

Quatre looked up. "St. Petersburg? You want to go to St. Petersburg?"

Moving closer to Quatre Duo put a hand into his friend's shirt and took out a thin chain with a pendant. "St. Petersburg is just the start. I say we go to Paris."

"Paris," Quatre whispered, looking down at the pendant. That chain was the only clue Quatre had of his past. It wasn't much but since they had met, Quatre had talked about how one day he would go to Paris to see if he could find some answers.

"We can't stay here forever, Q." Duo leaned back on the pole. "We have that money we kept from the last job at the docks, maybe that's enough to get us to Paris."

"You would come with me?" Quatre looked thoughtful.

"Of course, silly. Where else do I have to go?"

"We left everything we have in the house," Quatre argued, but there wasn't much conviction in his voice.

"We keep everything that matters on us," Duo looped his arm around Quatre's. They had their good hats on, as well as their coats, boots and the money. Quatre had his chain and Duo had his cross. Putting the free hand in his pocket Duo confirmed that he had the pair of good gloves he shared with Quatre and even a small piece of bread left from breakfast. They wouldn't miss a change of torn clothes and an old pillow, and they certainly wouldn't miss the old lady.

Slowly, a smile appeared on Quatre's face. He put the pendant back inside his shirt and took the road to St. Petersburg.

* * *

The boy was ugly. Yes, he had blue eyes and blond hair but he was the ugliest thing Trowa had ever seen.

"Next!" Heero said and glared at the boy, who quickly ran out the room.

Trowa buried his face in his hands. "This is a waste of time. They are all either ugly, or too old, or dumb as a rock."

"We've only seen ten of them," Heero pointed out. "There's a line outside."

"Of course there's a line." Trowa stood up and leaned against his chair, resisting the urge to pace. "They all want a cut of the reward but none of them will ever pass for Prince Raberba."

"The third one wasn't so bad." Heero had that look, the one that said he was being patient with Trowa just because they had known each other forever and that if it wasn't for that he would have already hit him.

"The eyes were wrong," Trowa muttered.

"They were blue."

"Too blue." Trowa jumped back just in time to avoid Heero's punch.

"You are being anal, Barton." Heero stood up. He didn't look like he wanted to try to hit Trowa again so Trowa didn't back away. "It's been ten years. The prince was seven then. The Sultan's brother won't know it isn't him."

"Eyes don't change." Trowa put his hands in his pockets. "He will know." Since the Sultan's brother, Emir Rashid, had offered a ten million rubles reward to anyone who found his lost nephew, Prince Raberba, people from all over the country had traveled to see him. Emir Rashid had seen through all of the boys pretending to be his nephew, no matter how alike or well prepared they were.

Trowa had something that would guarantee that the Emir would believe him but it wouldn't work if the boy they had was a complete idiot.

"Do you want to go back to the factory?" Heero asked patiently. "If we don't pick a boy soon we will spend all our savings. We don't have unlimited resources, Trowa."

Heero and Trowa had met at the factory. It was a horrible dark place where Trowa had to pump a lever for fourteen hours a day. He had been working there since the revolution. Heero ran the machine beside Trowa's. The pay wasn't much but over the years they had managed to save some money and when the Emir made his announcement, Trowa knew exactly how to invest that money. If they could just find the right person to play Raberba, he and Heero would be rich.

"People are still asking for our traveling papers," Trowa said. "That should buy us some time." Heero's father had taught them the trade. He forged papers of all kinds and when he died, Trowa and Heero had taken over. With the current situation, many people were interested in buying traveling visas. It was a good, if risky, source of income.

"Some. But you are forgetting we'll need to buy tickets to Paris, clothes for us and Raberba, pay for a hotel and food for the trip. Those things are expensive."

"I know." Trowa slumped on his chair. He looked through the door and yelled, "Next!"

* * *

Quatre counted their coins. "If we get the cheapest fare, we can afford the tickets, but we won't have anything left for food." He and Duo were standing at the corner of the busy train station, watching the people rush by. It had taken them all afternoon and half the night but they had managed to get to St. Petersburg. There was one ticket booth still open and the next train to Paris left in a couple of hours. Apparently it was a popular destination because there were two trains a day.

"Let's take it," Duo said, shrugging. "We'll manage somehow."

Holding the coins tightly in his hand, Quatre nodded. He didn't want to wait either. When he got up yesterday morning he hadn't thought that it would be the day when he finally left the old lady and started his journey to Paris, but when an opportunity and the motivation presented themselves, he couldn't turn them away.

He didn't hate the old lady. He didn't like her either, but she had taken him in when she could have sent him to an orphanage. He was glad because he wouldn't have met Duo otherwise. But now it was time for Quatre to go and try to figure out who he was.

Before he met Duo, there was nothing Quatre wanted more than to find his family, whoever they were. Instead, Duo had become his family, and for that Quatre was eternally grateful, but he still felt that he had to know who he really was and where he had come from. The pendant was his only clue, and he would follow it.

Sometimes Quatre had dreams that he knew were of his past, but in the morning, the faces were blurred and the places were too fuzzy to remember. It was as if he could almost reach, almost know the answers, and then be pulled away.

There was only one person waiting in line. Quatre stood behind the man and waited for his turn. "Two tickets to Paris, please," he said, when the other man walked away.

"Travel papers," demanded the man in the ticket stand, not too sympathetically.

"Travel papers?" Quatre asked. He and Duo had never gone anywhere other than the small village by the old lady's farm. They didn't know that they needed any kind of papers to buy a train ticket.

"No traveling papers, no tickets."

Quatre was about to say something, try to convince the man to sell them the tickets anyway – he was good at convincing people – when he felt Duo pulling slightly on his coat. Giving the teller a smile, Quatre took a couple of steps away. That's when he noticed there was a short old woman standing next to Duo.

She signaled them to step farther away from the ticket booth and then to lean down, so they were at face level with her. "They won't sell you tickets without papers. You need to go see Heero and Trowa, they'll get you papers."

Duo gave Quatre a look. "Where can we find them?"

"The old palace," said the woman. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Duo gave her a wink and she smiled and walked away.

"To the palace!" Duo said, looking at the horizon and raising his arm in a very enthusiastic way. The small crowd on the station gave Duo questioning looks before carrying on with their business. Duo lowered his arm and gave Quatre a sheepish smile. "Bad joke?"

Quatre rolled his eyes and grabbed Duo's wrist. "Let's just go."

It wasn't snowing but it had snowed earlier in the day. The streets were covered in white, making them slippery. There was a strong wind blowing. Quatre pulled his coat closer around himself trying to keep warm. The coat was old and torn and it wasn't really very warm. Duo put his arm around Quatre and moved close to him. Quatre smiled.

"Do you know where we are going?" Duo asked after a few blocks.

"The old palace," Quatre answered.

"I don't know about you, Q, but I've never been in St. Petersburg. How do we know we aren't walking in the complete opposite direction?"

Quatre stopped walking, his eyes fixed on a distant spot. He shook his head once. "I don't know. I just do."

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Once they met a musician on the street, and Quatre had asked him to let him play. He hadn't known why or how but he could actually play the violin very well. And then, there was the time he had understood and talked to a woman in a foreign language that turned out to be French. It just cemented the idea that he had to go to Paris to find his past.

In the distance, Quatre could see the palace. He didn't know how he knew the way but he did. Another piece of his lost memory he couldn't quite understand.

"Come on," Duo said, walking again and pulling Quatre with him. "It's getting cold. That place is big enough for us to crash in."

The rest of the walk to the palace was silent. It was easy enough to sneak in through an old and cracked board. The palace was dark and dusty and it was very difficult for Quatre and Duo to find their way around. Finally, they just curled up in a corner and fell asleep.

Feeling the sun on his face, Quatre woke up slowly. Duo was curled beside him, still sleeping peacefully. Carefully, Quatre moved away from Duo and stood up, stretching his legs. The sun was slipping into the room through small cracks of the boarded up windows, but it provided enough light for Quatre to be able to see the room he was in.

Last night, in the dark, Duo and he had only worried about finding a warm corner, but now, Quatre could see, even through the dust and decay, the beautiful and elegant ballroom. It was huge. They had fallen asleep beside the stairs. Quatre took a couple of steps into the room, imagining how it would have looked completely illuminated, with people in bright and elegant dresses dancing around. He could almost see it.

He climbed up the stairs slowly, knowing the place where the Czar would stand and watch the people below. Quatre stood there, hearing music that wasn't playing, laughter and happiness that sometime ago might have filled the room.

"Who are you?"

The illusion shattered. Quatre blinked and watched the dark, dusty and empty ballroom again. He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache.

"What are you doing here?" The voice was cold and demanding. Quatre opened his eyes and saw two figures approaching him.

"Hm, I'm looking for someone," Quatre answered softly, not sure that the men could hear him.

"We're looking for Heero and Trowa, are you them?" Duo walked around the stairs and climbed them quickly to stand next to Quatre. He gave Quatre a sideways glance and frowned. "What's wrong?" He whispered, softly so only Quatre would hear him.

Quatre shook his head slightly and murmured, "Headache," before turning back to the approaching men.

The slightly taller one with the weird hair stood at the base of the steps and asked, "Who wants to know?"

"We need travel papers," Quatre said.

"We were told to come here and we were instructed not to tell you who told us," Duo added.

"You didn't need to tell us that," observed the other man. He was staring intently at Duo and Duo just grinned back and shrugged.

"So, can you help us?" Quatre returned his gaze to the first man and noticed deep green eyes looking at him carefully. Not shifting his eyes away, Quatre waited for the man to say something, but the silence stretched and every second made Quatre more nervous. Suddenly the man started to look at something behind Quatre and then at Quatre again. Not resisting the curiosity, Quatre turned around.

On the tall wall was a life size portrait of the Winner family. The Czar sat on an elegant chair surrounded by his children. Quatre noticed that the stranger was looking between Quatre and the image of the young Prince Raberba.

"We need to go to Paris," Duo explained. "Can you help us?"

"Paris?" The taller man gave his friend a look. The other frowned until his eyes focused on Quatre and then widened slightly. "We might help you. We are heading there ourselves, but…"

"But?" Quatre asked.

"But," continued the taller man, "we only have four tickets and one of them is for Prince Raberba, so we would only be able to take one of you."

"Don't tell me you believe that stuff?" asked Duo. "Prince Raberba was killed with the rest of the Winner family. Everything else is an old wives' tale." He gave the man a distrustful look. "Are you really Heero and Trowa?"

"My name is Trowa Barton," said the taller one. "That's my friend and associate Heero Yuy." He gestured with his head to his companion. "And as for Prince Raberba, I assure you, that isn't an old wives' tale." He climbed the stairs quickly and approached Quatre.

"Look at your friend here." Trowa put an arm around Quatre, which Quatre quickly pulled away. Trowa gave Quatre an amused smile before turning back to Duo. "Doesn't he have a striking resemblance to the prince?"

Duo opened his mouth but then frowned. He looked from Quatre to the painting, eyes wide, before shaking his head. "It can't be."

Quatre laughed. "Surely you aren't suggesting that I am the prince." When he noticed that Trowa and Heero looked very serious, Quatre frowned. "I can't be royalty. There are hundreds of blond boys in Russia. You should look somewhere else."

"Think about it, Cat," Duo said softly. He didn't sound too sure. "You don't remember who you are. I mean, you could be the prince." His eyes brightened. "Imagine that! You could be rich, royalty!"

"Duo." Quatre shook his head. This couldn't be. There was no point in believing fairy tales. "Come on, let's go. I don't think they can help."

Trowa was suddenly in front of Quatre. "Why are you so reluctant to believe this? If what your friend said is true and you don't remember who you are, then you could be him." He turned Quatre's face softly towards the painting. "You look exactly like him."

Quatre had to admit there were similarities. The hair, the skin, the color of the eyes… but it was just too farfetched to believe. He was a poor boy, almost a servant. There was no way he was a lost prince.

"Why are you so determined to make me believe this?"

"We've been looking for the prince for a long time," said Heero, climbing the stairs. "You are the closest we've been. It's only logical that we don't want to lose you now."

Duo crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side. "What's in it for you?"

"Paris," Trowa answered quickly. "We can't leave until we find the prince."

"And what if Quatre isn't it?"

"Then he finds out the truth and we all get to Paris," Heero said.

"It's a win, win situation," Trowa added.

Quatre bit his lower lip and looked at Duo. He didn't believe he was the prince but Heero and Trowa could take them to Paris. For the years Quatre had stayed with the old lady he had always dreamt of going to Paris and now it could happen. Duo's eyes were uncertain but there was also a glint that told Quatre that they should take this opportunity, no matter how weird it was.

They both turned at the same time and said, "Deal!"

* * *

Below the palace, down in the lowest dungeon, black long nails scraped the stone floors, making a screeching noise that echoed in the dark cell. There was not a drop of light and no living soul had stepped into the cell in over a decade. The figure lying in a corner had grown used to the silence and darkness; his torment was greater than that of loneliness, it was standing in the edge between life and death, with no soul and without the possibility of death.

Suddenly, the crystal reliquary held by thin gray fingers started to glow, until the green unnatural light coming from it illuminated the entire cell.

The man's eyes opened. Time had turned them yellow and hollow but he could still see and he watched marveled the source of his powers, so long muted, wake up again. He had traded his soul for this power, for his revenge, but when that little boy had escaped he had been condemned to wait until his task could be completed.

One little boy had been the source of his torment.

Slowly, the man once known as Tsubarov, stood up. He twirled the reliquary in his hands, watching it carefully. A sinister smile appeared on his face. The young prince was back and this time, he would get his revenge.


	3. Chapter Two

Heero put the last touches on the traveling papers, blowing on them to make the blue ink dry faster.

"What are you doing?" Duo was sitting next to him, his nose practically on the paper and curious eyes looking at Heero.

"If the ink isn't dry the usher will know they are fake."

"Boring," Duo proclaimed and turned to the other side of the cabin to talk to his friend. They were both looking excitedly out the window and playing a game about counting trees without getting dizzy.

"Quatre, maybe you should sit still in your chair and stop playing silly games." Trowa's voice sounded bored but Heero knew better; those two were getting on his nerves. "Princes don't behave this way."

They both turned from the window and glared at Trowa. "You have no right to—" Duo stopped mid rant when Quatre put a hand on his shoulder.

"Trowa," Quatre gave him a sweet look. "Do you really think I'm royalty?" Trowa nodded and Quatre's look turned from sweet to annoyed. "Then stop bossing me around!" He didn't spare Trowa another glance before he went back to the window and his game with Duo.

Heero chuckled, which earned him a murderous look from Trowa. If there was something Heero could say about this trip it was that it was, at least, bound to be amusing. With his fingertip, he checked the ink and when he was satisfied that it was dry enough, he stood up and left the cabin to present the papers.

"Where are we going?" Duo asked, following Heero.

"Papers," Heero said, raising them up slightly and then walked down the hall without further explanation. He noticed that Duo was still following him; he was persistent.

"Um, Heero, why are our papers blue while everyone else's are red?"

Heero stopped and turned around. Duo was using his index finger to, not very discreetly, point to a man's red traveling papers. Damn!

Grabbing Duo's hand, Heero hurried back to their cabin. The usher was near and they wouldn't have much time.

"Screwed up, uh?" Duo looked amused as he let Heero pull him through the train.

Heero contented himself with glaring before opening the door and looking at Trowa. "We have to go."

Quatre was still looking out the window but he turned around as soon as Heero entered. Trowa was already gathering the little luggage they had and Duo freed himself from Heero's hold to go get Quatre. It took them only a few minutes to run into the service car and hide there behind old utensils and spare linen.

"Was there a problem with our papers?" Quatre asked Trowa in that same sweet deceptive tone of voice he had used before.

Trowa snorted. "I just didn't want Your Highness to mix with the other commoners."

Quatre raised an eyebrow. "Does that mean I'm allowed to mix with you?"

Duo laughed and Heero smirked. It wasn't every day Heero got to see that expression in Trowa's face.

"Is he always such a tight-ass?" Duo asked, whispering.

"No." Heero's eyes narrowed slightly. Trowa was his friend and even though he could be quite peculiar at times, Heero knew he was very easy going. Actually, he had never seen Trowa get annoyed so easily.

"It must be something about Cat that brings it out then." Duo put his hands behind his head and leaned back on the metallic wall of the car. "We've never been on a train, you know? And when you're used to sleeping in a barn this isn't so bad. Cat's just being a brat."

"Trowa isn't helping either," Heero muttered and Duo grinned in reply. "I made the mistake with the papers. Not Trowa."

"It's fine." Duo stretched his legs in front of him and closed them at the ankles. "We wouldn't even be on the train if it wasn't for you."

Quatre was done arguing with Trowa and came over to Duo, sitting beside him and resting his head on his friend's shoulder before closing his eyes. Trowa silently took a seat next to Heero and ignored his new traveling companions.

"What?" Trowa asked after Heero stared at him for a full minute.

Heero raised an eyebrow. "You tell me."

Suddenly the train shook violently, making Heero and the others hold onto the wall to keep their balance, even while seated. Carefully, Heero stood up and, using the wall as support, he made his way to the front of the car. The links between the wagons had been severed and the other car was slowing down while they sped up.

"I've never been on a train but I'm pretty sure this isn't normal." Duo was standing behind Heero, looking out wide-eyed.

"The train is going too fast," Trowa said, standing behind Duo.

"Something isn't right with the engine," Quatre yelled from the other side of the wagon. Quickly, the others made their way to him and saw, through the small window at the front of the car, that the furnace on the locomotive was shining way too brightly.

"I'm on it," Duo announced before he opened the front door of the car and jumped wagons. He reappeared only seconds later and jumped back into the service car. "There's no one there. Shouldn't there be a driver guy?"

This wasn't good. "We'll need to jump," Heero announced.

"No way!" Duo shook his head. "This is going way too fast."

"We need to uncouple the car," Quatre said, carefully stepping out into the links between the cars. With one hand holding into the edge of the wagon, he tried to pull the screw free using his hand.

Trowa immediately jumped out to help him and in a few minutes they managed to unlink the cars. The change of movement made Quatre lose his balance but Trowa grabbed his arm and steadied him before he could fall down.

"Thank you," Quatre said as they both stepped back inside the car. Trowa nodded his head in acceptance.

Heero held onto the wall and watched the locomotive pull away. It would derail. They would have died if their car had been attached to it. Whatever had caused the furnace to explode, their wagon to uncouple from the rest of the train and the driver to disappear had been after them.

In the distance a flash of bright green caught Heero's attention. He blinked and it was gone. He must be losing his mind. There were no such things as small glowing green demons.

* * *

"Now what?" asked Quatre, sitting on a rock. He crossed his arms above his chest and glared at Trowa.

Duo hid a smirk behind the collar of his coat. Quatre was moody and sulky and he was directing all his frustration at Trowa. The signs were loud and clear; Quatre had a thing for Trowa and was trying very hard to ignore it. It wouldn't work.

"We'll take a ship. We are only half a day's walk from the port." Trowa turned around and started walking.

"Guess it's a night of walking for us," Duo muttered and extended a hand to help Quatre up.

"It'll be dawn soon," Heero said and followed Trowa to the small road that could be seen in the distance.

Duo put an arm around his friend. "Never thought our trip to Paris would be so glamorous, huh, Q?"

Quatre rubbed his hands together and breathed on them before putting them inside his pocket. "Not quite what I had in mind, no."

"But the company isn't bad," Duo's eyes trailed down Heero's back to focus on his backside.

"Easy for you to say! You don't have mister 'I-know-it-all' trying to make you act like royalty." Quatre huffed and pouted slightly.

Duo laughed but quieted down when Quatre threw a murderous glare at him. "He's trying to help. He wants you to impress your uncle the Emir."

"We don't know if he's my uncle." Quatre frowned. "I still don't fully believe this prince story."

"What's to lose? If you are, then sweet! You get to be rich and find your family and live happily ever after. And you aren't, then we've made it to Paris and we can start looking for your real family," Duo's smile widened. "And then you can also live happily ever after."

"I guess," Quatre said and then went quiet.

Duo let him be. He knew Quatre well enough to know when to back off and give the other some space. Something was bothering Quatre but Duo couldn't tell if it was the possibility of being royalty or Trowa.

When they reached the road it was easier to walk and they increased their pace. Heero had been right and dawn didn't take long to come. Sometime during their walk Quatre had moved ahead and Heero had fallen back, so he was now next to Duo.

"Are you hungry?" asked Heero.

A bit startled by the question Duo almost tripped on a small rock but Heero steadied him before he could fall. "I'm fine. The old lady we lived with wasn't that generous. We've gone longer without food."

Heero didn't answer and instead reached into his satchel and handed Duo a small piece of bread. Hesitantly Duo took it and thanked Heero. Truth was that he was hungry. The little food he and Quatre had taken with them from the old lady's house was already gone.

"What about you and Trowa and Cat?" Duo asked mid bite.

"I'm not hungry," Heero replied with a shrug. "And we have more food for when I am." He pointed to the two men walking ahead. "I think they stopped fighting long enough to share some food themselves."

Even though Duo couldn't hear what they were saying it was evident that Quatre and Trowa, for once, weren't arguing but having a normal conversation while they ate. "Miracles do happen!"

"There are better ways to show someone you care for them than arguing," Heero said, looking at Duo this time.

"Like what?" Duo asked carefully. He stopped eating and focused completely on Heero.

"They could simply say it."

"Oh, right," Duo said, trying to hide his disappointment. Somehow that wasn't the answer he was expecting.

"Or show it."

"Show it?" Duo perked up. "Show it how?"

"A kiss is traditional."

Duo licked his lips. "It is… but someone needs to make the first move."

Heero stopped walking. "Or they both could."

Stopping, Duo turned to Heero and closed the space between them. "Now?"

Heero nodded and closed his eyes; Duo followed and made a move.

Heero made his move too.

* * *

The boat's name was Tasha. It was decent enough and even though they were in third class quarters, neither Quatre nor Duo had complained. During the walk to the port Trowa and Quatre had managed not to argue much. Trowa still found the blond incredibly stubborn and unwilling to cooperate with the simplest things, but as long as they didn't discuss the topic of royalty they didn't argue at all.

They had had to spend most of the walk together since Duo and Heero had apparently decided to hook up on the way, leaving their friends to fend for themselves. Trowa would have been more annoyed if he wasn't secretly happy for Heero. They had been friends for a long time and in all those years Trowa had never seen Heero even hold a conversation with anyone but him. The fact that he and Duo had moved from strangers to kissing in so short time said a lot about them.

Not that Trowa believed in love at first sight.

It wasn't possible to be smitten by someone just at first glance. Yes, he had been drawn to Quatre from the first moment but that was only because he resembled Prince Raberba. Nothing more. It made sense since Trowa had been obsessed with the missing prince since he was little and Quatre had been the first believable look alike he had ever seen. If it wasn't for the fact that Trowa wasn't one to believe in legends either, he would really think Quatre was the prince. The eyes were exactly as he remembered…

"I got the clothes." Heero walked into the deck with Duo by his side. Quatre and Trowa had been waiting for them there, quietly watching the waves and the darkening sky.

"What clothes?" Quatre turned away from the railing, the red sun reflecting on his hair.

"For you," Duo said, taking the package from Heero's hand and handing it to Quatre.

Quatre looked down at the bundle of clothes. "Why?"

"We'll never get past Wufei with you looking like you do," Trowa answered. "You have to play the part of a prince."

Thin lines appeared in Quatre's forehead. Trowa had learned that was a clear sign that Quatre was getting annoyed and that he, Trowa, would be yelled at soon. "Who's Wufei? I thought we were meeting with the Emir."

"The Emir doesn't see anyone Wufei doesn't approve," Heero said.

"Do you mean I have to prove I'm Prince Raberba?" Quatre was clearly frowning now. "I can't do that. I can't lie."

"What if you are not?" Trowa took a cautious step towards Quatre. "Wufei is just one more stop before you can meet the Emir and find out who you really are."

"And how am I supposed to be approved by Wufei?" Quatre grumbled. "You think a few clothes are going to make me suddenly look like a prince?"

"We'll coach you," said Heero. "Tell you what you need to know about the royal family and their codes of conduct."

"It won't work." Quatre sighed. "It just won't." He turned away from them to lean over the railing again.

Trowa didn't know what pushed him to stand next to Quatre, looking down at the waves below. The expression on Quatre's face wasn't annoyed anymore. It was sad. "What is it?"

Quatre shook his head. "Look at me, Trowa. I'm a nobody, with no past and no future. Who is going to believe I'm a prince?"

Trowa put two fingers below Quatre's chin and made him look up at him. "You are not a nobody," he said firmly. "You are a caring and intelligent person and on a number of occasions you have showed a very annoying stubborn streak worthy of royalty."

Quatre snorted. "Then you must be royalty too."

Trowa bowed his head slightly in agreement. "Why don't you try the clothes on and then we can start with the boring Winner family facts."

"Fine," Quatre said and walked inside, with the bundle in his hands.

"You got him to try those on?" Duo looked impressed. "I didn't give you enough credit. You might still have a chance."

Trowa frowned slightly. "A chance for what?"

Duo's grin was a little scary. "You'll find out… eventually."

Trowa turned to Heero but there was no explanation coming from there. Whatever those two were plotting they weren't sharing any information with Trowa. He turned around and looked back at the waves, giving Duo and Heero some privacy. He didn't want to admit that he was a little jealous seeing the two together.

It wasn't long before Trowa heard steps heading into the deck and turned around to see Quatre. The cap the blond usually wore was gone and locks of hair fell over his eyes, framing his face. The white shirt and elegant trousers fit him perfectly and the vest above it gave him a sophisticated look he had lacked before with the old coat and ragged shirt he had worn.

"Wow, Q! You just might be the real thing." Duo moved closer to his friend and made Quatre turn around. "You'll definitely convince this Wufei guy. You look ready for one of those royal balls."

Quatre bowed his head, hiding his eyes behind his bangs.

"Good idea, Duo," said Heero. "We'll start with dancing." Trowa had learned long ago that when that particular twinkle was in Heero's eyes it was because he was plotting something.

"What?" Quatre put his hand in front of him and took a step back. "No. I've never danced."

"Trowa, practice with him while Duo and I go find us some dinner." With that Heero took Duo's hand and rushed inside before Trowa could protest. The twinkle suddenly made sense.

"Can you dance?" Quatre asked.

"Yes, but I've always led." Trowa walked to Quatre and hesitantly put an arm on his shoulder. "You'll need to excuse me if I make a mistake."

Quatre held Trowa's hand and put his other one on Trowa's waist. "You are taller than me."

"Not by much."

Quatre started to move, doing a waltz. His steps were graceful and fluid while his eyes were fixed on Trowa's face.

"Are you sure you haven't done this before?" Trowa asked, following Quatre's lead quite easily.

"No." Quatre looked away for a moment. "There are things I know how to do but I don't remember learning them."

"You must have danced when you were younger." Trowa squeezed Quatre's hand reassuringly.

"I wish I could remember more than blurred images I can't understand. I wish I knew who I am."

Trowa raised his hand from Quatre's shoulder and with two fingers caressed Quatre's cheek. "Who you are now doesn't have to be defined by who you were. You are Quatre and you don't need your memories to be a good friend to Duo, make Heero smile or… dance with me."

They stopped and just stood there staring at each other. "Quatre, I…"

"Yes?"

Trowa closed his eyes and leaned forward. He could feel Quatre's irregular breathing as he closed the space between them… and then stopped. He opened his eyes and pulled away. "You are doing fine," he said and walked inside, without looking back.

* * *

Down the deepest dungeon, the tattered figure of Tsubarov watched in a magical sphere as the prince give the other boy a longing look. So the little Winner had found love. Love and friendship. Tsubarov tightened his grip on the reliquary. It wouldn't matter how many allies the prince had made, this time he would die and then the curse would be complete.

With the power of the reliquary Tsubarov had been regaining his strength. He had been powerful enough to conjure his minions and sent them after the train. They had failed but he wouldn't fail again. He was becoming stronger.

In the sphere there was the image of the prince, sleeping in his cot. "Sweet dreams to you, Prince." Boney fingers trailed the image. "I'll get inside your mind, where you can't escape me."

* * *

The field was covered in brown, green and yellow leaves. The sun was shining and there were only a few puffy clouds coloring the sky. Someone was calling his name. Quatre turned his face up, looking at the branches of the tree he was sitting under. Up there was a little boy. He had seen this boy before, the weird hairdo and the green of his eyes were very familiar.

Quatre waved at the boy and the boy waved back before he flipped in the air and landed in the grass below. Quatre clapped happily and the boy bowed.

"Come," said the boy and started running away, towards the small hill that could be seen in the distance.

In the time it took Quatre to get up the boy had managed to run halfway to the hill. "Wait!" Quatre called and rushed after him. "Wait!"

The boy kept running ahead, now and then turning around and giving Quatre a smile, encouraging him to follow. The wind was soft and the breeze blew back Quatre's hair. He smiled and kept running.

At the top of the hill Quatre stopped and saw the boy standing before a cliff. The boy smiled, waved again and then jumped down. Quatre ran, his hands forward trying to catch the boy, but there was nothing but air. He stopped at the edge of the cliff, his toes hanging over the side.

"Quatre!"

The cliff wasn't tall at all and below there was a lake of pure crystalline water. A couple of blonde girls rushed by him and jumped down into the water. They smiled up at him. "Come!"

The breeze had stopped and Quatre was suddenly really warm. The water below was inviting and refreshing. He leaned forward.

"Jump!" The little boy was now swimming in the lake. "Jump!"

Quatre hesitated. Something wasn't right.

"Jump!"

The boy wasn't there anymore. In his place was an old man, surrounded by green demons. The field was gone, changed into a wasteland of rocks and tall cliffs, the sun had turned dark. The old man jumped up, grabbing Quatre by the waist and pulling him down. "The Winner curse!"

Quatre was losing his balance. He was falling. He would fall down with this creature and he knew he would never come back again.

"Jump!"

His foot slipped.

"Jump!"

* * *

Heero opened his eyes.

"Where's Quatre?"

After blinking a couple of times to adjust to the dim light of the cabin, Heero noticed that Trowa wasn't in his cot but standing over Quatre's empty one. When Heero gave no answer, Trowa turned to Duo.

Duo was rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Q's gone?" He hadn't even finished the question when Trowa bolted out of the room.

"Damn!" Heero threw his blankets away and ran after Trowa, aware that Duo was following.

It was raining hard and the strong waves were making the ship sway violently. Heero lost his footing twice on his run through the corridor and by the sound of Duo cursing behind him, he wasn't the only one.

Out in the deck it was even more difficult to run. The wooden floors were wet and the rain made it harder to see where Trowa had gone.

"Quatre!" Trowa yelled as he sped up, heading towards the deck they had been in earlier in the evening.

Heero looked up ahead and gasped. Quatre was standing on the railing, barely balancing on his bare feet, eyes closed and only inches away from falling down. The green little demons Heero had seen in the train were surrounding him, luring him to go over the edge.

"Cat!" Duo was suddenly next to Heero. They ran as fast as they could but still didn't manage to catch up with Trowa.

In a couple of seconds Trowa closed the distance between himself and Quatre.

And then Quatre slipped.

Heero and Duo reached them just in time to help Trowa pull Quatre inside the ship. He was soaked and shivering, his eyes were wide and as soon as his feet touched the deck again he buried his head into Trowa's chest.

"The Winner curse," he whispered. "The Winner curse."

* * *

Tsubarov's fingers tightened around the reliquary. He forced himself to let go. The reliquary was the source of his power. He had traded his soul to command the power and the demons inside it and if it ever shattered his life would be over, his soul destroyed.

The prince had been saved again. His demons had been so close this time, so close!

Slowly, Tsubarov stood up, jolting his legs awake after such a long slumber. It was clear now that if he wanted the prince gone, he would have to do it himself. It had been ten years since the last time he had walked on the surface. His body was battered but as long as he had the power of the reliquary he was immortal.

It was time for him to go after the prince and finish the job he'd started a decade ago.


	4. Chapter Three

Quatre remembered very little about his nightmare except those words he had spoken when he woke up. Duo assured them that Quatre had never sleepwalked before but that his dreams were usually agitated, probably thanks to the part of him that was trying to remember the life he had forgotten.

By the time they got to Paris Quatre was back to his normal self and dismissed the nightmare as a one time occurrence. Trowa, however, was worried. He had seen the green demons haunting Quatre and Heero had told him that he had seen them before on the train. While Trowa usually didn't believe in such things as supernatural creatures, he couldn't deny his eyes.

Something or someone was trying to hurt Quatre.

Trowa just hoped that whatever this was it wouldn't interfere with the meeting with Wufei and the Emir. Heero and he had invested all their savings in the search for a Prince Raberba that could fool the Emir and get them the reward money. They would be rich and Quatre… Well, Quatre would have found the family he was looking for. It didn't really matter if it wasn't really his own.

It was better this way. Quatre would live as a prince with the Emir, enjoying the richness of nobility. Someone like that could never get involved with another man, let alone a commoner.

Quatre would do fine. Heero had instructed him well in the history of the Winner family, his resemblance to the prince was astonishing and above all Trowa had _that_. When the Emir looked at the object Trowa had safeguarded for so many years, there would be no doubting Quatre's identity.

Heero straightened up and knocked on the door of the elegant house. A maid opened it and smiled. "Oui, monsieur?"

"Yuy, is that you?" someone called from inside. The man signaled the maid to go inside and stood on the threshold, his arms crossed over his chest and an amused smile on his face.

"It hasn't been that long, Wufei," Heero replied, returning the smile.

"So you finally made it to Paris," Wufei said, thoughtfully.

"Just to stand in the doorway of a poor host." Heero raised an eyebrow, silently challenging Wufei.

Wufei laughed. "I never thought I'd see the day when my former servant complained about my manners. Please, do come in." He gestured for the entire group to follow him and walked inside into a small sitting room.

"Former servant?" Duo whispered to Trowa.

"Heero used to work on the Chang household before the revolution," explained Trowa. "They were good friends, despite the social differences."

"So, what brings you to my door?" Wufei asked.

Heero moved aside to let Wufei see Quatre, who had been hiding behind the rest of the group. "I'm here to present his royalty, Prince Raberba Winner."

Wufei's eyebrows rose. He walked towards Quatre, slowly circling him around. "He does look like the prince, but he isn't the first one who does."

They all sat down and after the introductions were made Wufei began his interrogation. "Where were you born? How do you take your tea? Where was her highness the Empress from? Name all the Winner sisters from oldest to youngest… "

Quatre answered every question, repeating the facts Heero had made him memorize. Wufei was nodding thoughtfully, not letting on what he thought about Quatre's story yet. Duo and Trowa had remained quiet, just listening.

"One final question," Wufei said after a little over an hour. "How did you escape during the siege of the palace?"

Trowa swallowed. They had never discussed this with Quatre. As far as he and Heero knew the prospects were never asked more than questions about the family and their life before the revolution, never about that night when the Winner family had died. Trowa could see all his hopes and dreams crumble in front of him. They had been so close.

"There was a boy," Quatre said, drawing Trowa's attention back to him. "He worked in the palace… He opened a wall?" Quatre looked confused and then shook his head. Two fingers went to his forehead, massaging it slowly. "I'm sorry, this sounds crazy." He gave a nervous laugh. "Opening walls…"

If the question had shocked Trowa, the answer had stopped him cold. It couldn't be. The prince had died.

That night, ten years ago, when Trowa had woken up with a throbbing headache in an empty room he had hoped the prince had made it out. He had liked the prince, even though they had never talked. Trowa liked to watch him, hear him talk and play with his sisters. He had known that he and the prince could never be friends but that didn't stop him from dreaming about it.

The dream had shattered when he'd walked out of the palace and heard the news that the royal family had been killed. Raberba was gone.

Trowa had convinced himself of that and he hadn't dared to hope and believe the myths and legends that said the young heir had survived. But then, how had Quatre known about the secret passage and about him? The eyes were the same. It was the first thing Trowa had noticed in the palace, even without comparing him to the painting of the royal family. He had remembered those eyes, he just hadn't been able to admit what he already knew.

Quatre was Prince Raberba.

"So?" Heero asked, "Is he the Winner heir?"

Wufei put a hand below his chin. "He answered every question but you won't be able to see the Emir."

"Why?" Duo asked, standing up from his seat.

"The Emir is tired of meeting fake boys pretending to be the prince. He won't see anyone else."

"Wufei, we came from St. Petersburg."

"However," Wufei continued, as if he hadn't heard Heero. "The Emir will be attending the opera tonight. We never miss it."

Heero inclined his head in understanding and then stood up. "Thank you, Wufei."

Wufei made a slight bow and walked them to the door.

"We should go see the city," Duo said as soon as they left the house.

"We do have some time," Quatre agreed. He walked next to Duo and they rushed down the street.

Trowa followed them at a slower pace. He didn't mind where they went. He couldn't think clearly right now.

"So he's the real thing," Heero said, matching his pace to Trowa's.

Ahead, Duo and Quatre were talking and laughing. Trowa suppressed a sigh. "There's no other way for him to know that." Trowa had told Heero the story of how he had helped the prince many times. Heero used to tease him, saying Trowa had a crush on the prince. He might not have been so wrong after all.

"Tell him how you feel before he meets the Emir. He deserves to know."

Trowa shook his head. "There's no place for me in his life. He's the prince."

Heero gave him a warning look. "You are making a mistake."

Trowa didn't have a reply.

They didn't talk anymore the rest of the evening. Trowa followed his friends around the city but his mind wasn't really there. Quatre caught him looking a couple of times but didn't say anything. Trowa was grateful for that. He didn't know what he would do if Quatre confronted him.

After they got some clothes fitted for a visit to the opera, they headed to the theater. Heero managed to get them tickets in a private box. Duo and Quatre were exited, happily watching the people around them and admiring the elegance of the building. The plan was to watch the show until the intermission and then Trowa would go talk to the Emir and convince him to see Quatre.

Quatre loved the show. While Duo and Heero whispered to each other now and then, Quatre's attention was completely on the stage. His mouth was slightly open and the fingers on his lap sometimes drummed in rhythm to the music. Trowa enjoyed the music too but he discovered soon enough that he liked watching Quatre more than the stage.

When the time for the intermission came, Quatre smiled brightly at Trowa before standing up. "This is wonderful!"

"After you meet the Emir you'll have the opportunity to see many more." Trowa walked out into the hall and started heading towards the Emir's box. He stopped when he noticed that Heero and Duo weren't following.

"I need to talk to Duo," Heero said. Trowa understood the unspoken words. Heero wasn't going to remain quiet. He was going to come clean to Duo. Trowa nodded and hoped they would be fine. Heero deserved to have someone.

When Trowa and Quatre reached the door to the Emir's box Trowa said, "Wait for me here."

For the first time, Quatre nodded and didn't argue.

As soon as Trowa walked inside Wufei stood up. "I need to speak with the Emir," Trowa said loudly. "I've found his nephew Prince Raberba Winner."

The Emir turned around and stood up as well. He was a tall and imposing man. He looked down at Trowa. "I'm tired of seeing boys pretending to be Raberba."

"Please, my name is Trowa and I used to work at the palace."

"No!" the emir said, raising his voice. "I'm not a foolish old man and I'm tired of people pretending to know my nephew's whereabouts only to get the reward money."

Wufei started pushing Trowa carefully towards the door.

"This isn't like that. You need to meet hi—"

"Trowa! I remember that name." The Emir was frowning. "You are the one who held auditions in St. Petersburg, looking for boys to play Raberba." He pointed angrily towards the door. "Get out. Now!"

Wufei wasn't careful this time when he pushed Trowa out. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I can't allow you to cause more pain to the Emir." He closed the door in Trowa's face.

Trowa sighed and closed his eyes.

"So that's what was in it for you." Quatre's voice was cold and icy. "Reward money."

"No!" Trowa opened his eyes. "It's not like that."

"It was all a lie," Quatre's eyes were hurt. "You just needed me for the money."

"No!" Trowa help Quatre's arms with both hands. "It might have started like that but it's not anymore. You are Prince Raberba."

Quatre took a step back and pushed Trowa away from him. "You don't need to lie anymore. At least I got to Paris so I guess we are even, Mr. Barton." He started walking away and Trowa ran after him.

"You are the prince! When you talked about the boy—"

"No more, Trowa." Quatre stopped to glare at him. "You've made me hope enough. Just leave me alone." When he walked away this time Trowa didn't follow.

* * *

"So you lied to us," Duo said, slowly.

Heero nodded. "I'm sorry.

"It was a good plan. You and Trowa get to split the reward in two instead of three and all you had to do was toy with a guy with amnesia and his friend." Duo was so angry that it was taking all his self-control not to slug Heero. They had been played with. And to think that he had kissed Heero, allowed himself to care for him.

"I'm sorry," Heero repeated. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You hurt Cat and lied to me."

"I didn't know you," Heero whispered. "If I had I wouldn't have done it."

"Sure." Duo rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't have pretended to care for me either..."

"I do care," Heero said firmly. "That wasn't a lie."

Duo wanted to snort and walk away. He didn't need this. It was easier to hold a grudge and just ignore how happy he had been the last few days, how happy Heero made him. But Heero was looking at him and Duo knew, just by seeing his eyes, that he wasn't lying. "You'll have to apologize to Quatre," he finally said.

Heero nodded.

"I haven't forgiven you yet," Duo warned. "But I think I might."

* * *

Rashid left the theater after bidding goodnight to Wufei. He liked the young man. Wufei had been a great help to Rashid over the years, being his right hand in the futile search for Raberba. The Chang family had been living as ambassadors in Russia before the revolution and after it they had established in Paris. Having lived in the same place Rashid quickly made friends with the Chang family and after Wufei was old enough he had volunteered to help the Emir interview the many boys that came to Paris claiming to be the prince.

He entered his car and closed his eyes as the vehicle started moving. He wanted to go home, rest and forget this horrible night had ever happened.

The vehicle took a sharp turn and Rashid opened his eyes. "Abdul, slow down."

"I'm not Abdul and I won't slow down."

The driver turned around and Rashid sat up in his chair. "You! Haven't you done enough tonight?"

"Emir, you need to listen to me. Please." Trowa turned his eyes back to the road. "I'm taking you to my hotel to meet the prince. I know you don't believe me and he doesn't believe it either but you need to see him."

Rashid fingered the dagger in his pocket. The last person he had killed had been Tsubarov, all those years ago. He was angry at being taken hostage by an insolent boy but he didn't want to kill him either. He decided to wait but he didn't pull his hand away from the dagger.

They stopped in front of a small hotel. Trowa got out of the car and opened Rashid's door. The boy put a hand inside his pocket and Rashid tightened his grip on the dagger.

"Do you remember this?" Trowa asked and opened his hand to show a small sand clock.

Rashid's eyes widened. He let go of the dagger and took the clock from Trowa's hand. "Where did you get this?"

"The prince left it behind when you both went through the passage in the wall."

The boy looked sincere and desperate to make Rashid believe him. Rashid didn't dare to hope but at least Trowa had brought back the clock Raberba had loved so much.

"I'll take you to him," Trowa said and Rashid found himself following him.

The entered the hotel and when they reached the room Trowa handed Rashid the key. "He's in there." And with that he walked away.

Rashid knocked and a voice inside said, "Come in, Heero." He opened the door and stepped inside.

"You are not Heero," a boy with a long braid said accusingly.

But Rashid didn't pay him any attention. He was focused on the other boy, the blond standing by the window and giving him a curious look.

"I'm Rashid Kurama," he said to the boy who had spoken. "Would you give us a moment?"

The boy turned to the blond and when he received a nod he left the room, closing the door behind him.

"You look a lot like him," Rashid said, walking into the middle of the room.

It was a few seconds before the boy spoke. "I don't know if I am him."

This was a first. Rashid relaxed his stance a little but didn't allow himself to hope yet. There had been too many disappointments already. "Who are you?"

The boy sighed. "I don't know. My name is Quatre. My best friend and I picked it. I don't know my real name. I was found when I was about seven and I don't remember anything before that."

This really was an ingenious plot, but Rashid would not fall for it. "They coached you well."

Quatre lowered his head. "I'm sorry I wasted your time, Emir." His hand went to play with a silver chain around his neck. "You clearly don't know who I am."

Rashid took a few steps forward, his eyes fixed in the chain. He reached and Quatre allowed him to take the pendant on his hand. Rashid gasped. There was no mistaking the Arabian engravings or the single word written delicately on the jewel, _Paris_. "Where did you get this?"

"I've always had it." Quatre looked down at the pendant. "It's the only clue I have of who I am."

Letting go of the pendant Rashid sat down in a nearby chair, gesturing for Quatre to take the one beside him. When Quatre did, Rashid pulled the sand clock from his pocket and handed it to Quatre. "It was our secret."

Quatre took the clock carefully in his hands and frowned. "There was something…" He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead with one hand. When he opened them again he slowly turned the clock, inserted the pendant in the small slot at the base and opened it to reveal the modern clock hidden inside. "You gave this to me," he whispered.

Rashid blinked back a tear. It was him. After so many years, he had found Raberba.

* * *

Trowa knocked on the tall wooden doors and waited for permission to go in. The Emir's office was large, with tall windows, red carpets and fine furniture. Trowa walked to the middle of the room, stood in front of the large desk and waited.

The Emir looked at him and took a step to the side, showing a suitcase filled with money. "Ten thousand rubles as promised, with my gratitude."

"I don't want the money," Trowa said. When he had discussed it with Heero he had expected his friend to urge him to take the money, but somehow Heero understood and agreed with Trowa's decision. Duo and Heero had talked and were in the process of fixing whatever the lying had broken and they had seen Quatre a couple of times since he had moved to the Emir's mansion. Trowa, however, had kept away. He wouldn't even be here now if it wasn't for the Emir's insistence.

"After all you did, you don't want the reward?" The Emir looked surprised.

"Unfortunately, there's nothing you can give me, your grace." Trowa bowed and moved for the door.

"You care for him."

Trowa stopped walking but didn't turn around. "Don't worry. I'll be gone tonight." This time he didn't wait for an answer and walked out, closing the door behind him. He rushed to the stairs, taking two at a time. He was so focused on leaving the mansion soon that he didn't notice Quatre until it was too late.

He looked breathtaking. He was wearing an elegant dark blue tuxedo that made him look taller and accentuated his back and shoulders. He was probably already dressed for the party tonight. The papers had announced on the first page. The missing Prince of the Winner family had been found and he would be presented to society by his uncle the Emir at an excusive party tonight.

"Hello, Trowa."

"Hello, Quatre," he replied, stopping in the middle of the steps.

Quatre's eyes seemed sad for a moment but then he raised his chin and asked, "Did you get your reward?"

The coldness in Quatre's words hurt. "My business here is done," Trowa replied just as coldly. "I'm going back to St. Petersburg tonight."

"Young man," interrupted an elderly butler from the bottom of the stairs. "You will bow and address the prince as Your Highness."

Quatre shook his head and held a hand up. "That's not necessary."

"No, it's okay," said Trowa. Quatre was royalty now and Trowa had no right to address him as he had done. It was time for them both to take their place. He bowed. "Your Highness, I'm glad you found what you were looking for."

Quatre closed his eyes and swallowed. His voice didn't sound so cold when he said, "I'm glad you did too."

"Goodbye, Your Highness." Trowa turned around and forced himself to walk down the remaining steps.

"Goodbye, Trowa."

Not looking back, Trowa decided, was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He left the mansion and headed to the hotel, keeping his eyes on the floor all the way back.

He opened the door to their room and found Heero and Duo inside, getting dressed for the ball. They had decided to stay in Paris. Heero had no desire to go back to Russia and Duo had left his home to join Quatre in an adventure. He wasn't about to go away now.

Trowa, however, had to go back.

"Well," he said, stepping in front of Heero. "If you are ever in St. Petersburg again, look me up."

Heero moved forward and put his arms around Trowa in a quick embrace. "You are making a mistake," he said when he let go.

"Trust me," Trowa replied, sadly. "This is the one thing I'm doing right."

"You're running." Duo was glaring at him. "I thought you were different." Even though Duo had forgiven Trowa for lying to him he hadn't had forgiven him for hurting Quatre.

Trowa shook his head. "I don't belong here, or with him."

"You are giving up." Heero sounded disappointed.

"He doesn't want me here." Trowa went to collect his satchel from the corner of the room.

"He's angry because you lied and he has every right to be." Duo's glare softened. "But he'll forgive you. He forgave Heero and he will forgive you. But if you leave, Trowa, then he won't."

Trowa left anyway.

Duo's words haunted him all the way to the train station.

* * *

Quatre stood next to Rashid in the antechamber of the ballroom. He peeked through the curtains and noticed that most of the guests had already arrived and were dancing in their expensive elegant clothes. The scene reminded him of the old palace in St. Petersburg. This ball was exactly how he had imagined, or more exactly remembered, a grand party would be like.

In the week he had spent on Rashid's house Quatre had remembered more about his past than in the last ten years. Being with his uncle had jolted his memory and little by little the pieces of the puzzle of his past were becoming clearer.

"Quatre?"

He had asked Rashid to call him that. Even though he was remembering his life as Raberba, he could no longer identify with that name. Like Trowa had said, he was Quatre, and discovering his past didn't change the person he was now.

Letting the curtain drop Quatre took a few steps back. Thinking of Trowa always made his heart ache. In the boat Quatre had been ready to give into the feeling that had been growing since the he'd met Trowa. When they had danced, for a second, Quatre allowed himself to hope there would be more between them. But then Trowa had pulled away and his hopes had been shattered.

The feeling, however, was still there.

"He's not out there," Rashid said, coming to stand beside Quatre.

"I know he isn't there!" replied Quatre, frustrated. He paused and frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

"A remarkable young man who helped us escape the palace years ago and kept safe a sand clock."

Quatre looked up at Rashid. "Trowa was that boy?" An image of the boy jumped into his mind and Quatre felt like hitting himself. How could he have forgotten those eyes? "He's gone anyway," he said bitterly. "His business here is finished."

Rashid sighed. "Quatre, you were born into royalty, into a world of richness and luxuries but with it come certain demands, sacrifices if you will."

"I won't embarrass you," Quatre assured his uncle. He had also been worried about how his years living as no more than a servant would be seen by the society world. He was not prepared and he didn't know if he'll ever be, but he was willing to try. After all, he had found his family and he wasn't ready to give that up.

"That's not what I mean," Rashid said. "What I'm trying to say is that I wonder if this is what you really want."

"Yes," said Quatre, but his voice was hesitant. "I wanted to find my family and I found you."

"And you'll always have me." Rashid put a hand on Quatre's shoulder. "But is it enough?"

Quatre closed his eyes. He didn't have an answer.

Rashid walked to the curtain and pulled it open. He turned around to look at Quatre. "He didn't take the money."

"He didn't?" Quatre repeated, his eyes widening.

"I'll be here, Quatre, whatever road you choose to take." Rashid gave Quatre a reassuring smile and walked into the ballroom, the curtain falling closed behind him.

For a few minutes Quatre just stood there. When his brain started to function again he gave the curtain one last look and walked away.

It wasn't enough.

He wasn't going to give up his family but he wasn't going to give up Trowa either.

To avoid the still arriving guests, Quatre decided to leave through the back garden. It was large and well taken care of. A few lamps illuminated it enough for Quatre to see where he was going without tripping on the roots of the trees. The garden had a side exit to a deserted street by the river. From there he could run to the train station and, hopefully, he would get to Trowa in time.

"Raberba…"

Quatre turned around quickly, looking for the owner of the voice but no one was there.

"Raberba…"

This time it came from somewhere ahead of him. Slowly Quatre started walking again. Something was wrong. There was a thick mist covering the garden even though there was a clear sky above. The shapes of the trees seemed to be changing, growing larger and menacing. Quatre blinked furiously and shook his head. He was seeing things.

"Raberba." A figure emerged slowly from the trees. "Your Imperial Highness," the male voice added in a mocking tone.

As the figured approached Quatre could see his features better. He was an old man, dressed in dusty robes. His skin was too pale and wrinkled and he whites of his eyes were yellow. His long and bony fingers were holding a crystal reliquary, in which inside, tiny green demons glowed and stirred. He barely seemed alive but still there was something about that face that Quatre recognized.

With his free hand the man pulled the robe away from his chest, showing Quatre and angry red wound piercing the almost translucent skin. "Remember that night?" The man waved the reliquary and green demons flew out. They spread over the garden, collapsing the walls and moving the trees angrily.

"Tsubarov!" Quatre gasped. "But you died."

"I can't die," Tsubarov said and waved the reliquary again. "But when you do, my curse will be completed!"

More demons sprang out, surrounding Quatre this time. They scratched his arms and face and tore his clothes. Quatre tried to wave them away but they were too many. Their tiny claws held onto his ragged clothes and his hair, and dragged him across the garden and out to the bridge over the river.

"And now you die," Tsubarov yelled.

Quatre fell hard. He didn't have time to stand up before the floor started trembling. The bridge was collapsing and when it did, Quatre would fall to the ice water below. He reached out, trying to find something to hold onto but grasping only air.

Somewhere near, Tsubarov was laughing.

A segment of the bridge fell, making Quatre slide down. The tips of his fingers held on to the ledge but Quatre was too heavy and the stone was slick. He slipped. Quatre closed his eyes but the torturing cold of the ice didn't come. Strong hands were holding his wrists firmly. "Trowa!"

Trowa only managed to pull Quatre slightly up before a green beam of light hit him on the chest and threw him back. Quatre held on to the edge with his forearms, trying to pull himself up.

Trowa had come back but now he was also in danger.

"You won't save him again," Tsubarov growled.

Quatre watched in horror as Trowa was pushed against a wall and attacked by the green demons. The bridge trembled again and Quatre slid down. "Trowa!" he yelled.

Suddenly Tsubarov appeared above Quatre and grabbed him by the back of his collar. "Finally, the last Winner dead!" he said triumphantly and pushed Quatre down.

Holding on with his fingertips Quatre saw Tsubarov raise the reliquary and aim it to him. Suddenly a figure launched at Tsubarov, sending them both sprawling on the ground. Seconds later Duo appeared at the edge and extended a hand to Quatre. He barely managed to pull Quatre up before he was knocked on his side by another of Tsubarov's attacks.

Heero was there too, fighting beside Trowa and fending off the demons and the rocks they threw. Without even thinking, Quatre ran over to Tsubarov, tackling him. He tried to punch the other man but was hit by a green light beam that sent him flying. He landed hard on his back.

Groaning, Quatre sat up just to see Tsubarov pointing the reliquary back at him. Again, Duo appeared from behind, but this time instead of tackling Tsubarov, he kicked his hand, making the reliquary roll away towards Quatre.

Quatre stood up, the reliquary at his feet. Tsubarov was looking at him with a horrified expression on his face. Quatre put one foot over the crystal, pressing down until he heard it crack. The light on the reliquary suddenly changed colors from green to red; the demons vanished.

Tsubarov fell on his knees and screamed.

Quatre kept his eyes on him. This man had killed his family, had hurt Duo and Heero and had tried to kill Trowa. Another crack came from the reliquary.

Tsubarov screamed again and tried to crawl forward. Quatre took a deep breath and pressed even harder.

The crystal broke.

The green demons reappeared, circling Tsubarov. The screams grew louder as the demons melted his flesh. Seconds later all that was left of the man that had murdered most of the Winner family was pulverized bones that were blown away by the wind.

Quatre breathed a sigh of relief and then he noticed that Trowa was lying on the ground. He ran towards Trowa and kneeled beside him. Heero and Duo were there in a moment.

"Trowa?" Quatre asked. "Trowa open your eyes."

"You better not be dead!" Duo said.

"He's fine," Heero announced only seconds before Trowa opened his eyes.

Quatre threw his arms around him. "Don't ever do that again!" When Trowa winced Quatre pulled away. He hesitated but then said, "I thought you were going to St. Peter—"

"I was," Trowa interrupted. He fixed his eyes on Quatre. "I couldn't."

Quatre held his breath. "Why?"

Trowa didn't answer. He just closed his eyes and leaned forward like he had done on the boat. Quatre licked his lips and closed his eyes too. He crossed his fingers and hoped this time there would be a kiss.

A round of applause coming from the ball was heard.

Trowa stopped. "They are waiting for you," he said.

"No," Quatre said and put his arms around Trowa's waist. This time he wasn't letting Trowa go. "I'm where I need to be." Without opening his eyes, he leaned forward and met Trowa's lips.

"So, this means we're all staying in Paris?" Duo asked.

Quatre smiled into the kiss and felt Trowa smile too.

They were home.

 

\- The End -


End file.
